Nerf War
by Circlique
Summary: America interrupts Korea's video game time, so Korea vows to make him pay. Kimchiburger fluff, one-shot.


The little space craft swerved through the landscape of a ruined planet, enemy craft closing in on all sides. The ship's survival was looking increasingly hopeless, lasers flashing by just inches from is wings. But suddenly, a miracle. A canyon, just big enough for the tiny craft but too large for most of its pursuers to enter, appeared just up ahead. If the ship could be maneuvered into the narrow canyon, it would be safe. Yong Soo felt confident. He just needed to stall for a moment longer, evade the advancing enemies for just long enough, until he could fly the little craft into the narrow opening and watch his larger enemies smash to pieces on the rocks. A laser flashed barely a foot behind one of the ship's engines, another just inches from the left wing. Just a little more…the canyon was right there. Now he just had to aim right to get in the narrow crack and he'd be home fr—

But something unexpected pelted him in the left temple, and in that split second of lost concentration, the tiny space craft on the screen swerved into the rocks on the side of the canyon, exploding into a thousand, fiery pieces. Yong Soo turned around to find the culprit.

And there was Alfred, dressed ridiculously in what looked like cheap kids' spy gear, complete with a toy head set and some sort of plastic, toy gun, and of course, grinning widely.

"Hey! I was just about to win!" Yong Soo complained, fishing around in the pile of junk food wrappers that had somehow begun to surround him in the past seven hours to find what had pelted him in the head. His hand closed around a little foam bullet, and he looked at Alfred expectantly.

"I bought I Nerf gun, dude!" Alfred said, coming over to retrieve the little foam projectile. "Come on! You've been playing that forever. Look at this! It's got revolving firing action and everything! Let's go test it out." He crouched down next to the Korean, whispering mischievously as if he were afraid someone else might be listening. "Let's go commie hunting."

But Yong Soo pushed against the other's chest with his hand, pouting somewhat, but the gears in his head were turning. He had another idea. Suddenly, his expression turned very serious, and he looked the American dead in the eye. "No way. I have to make you pay for making me lose my game."

For a moment, the smile on the American's face vanished as he tried to make sense of the Korean's uncharacteristic seriousness. "…Make me pay?"

"Yeah. Let's just say you need to be on your toes for a while."

And with those words, Yong Soo got up and scurried out of the room, chuckling inwardly as he left the very confused American in his wake.

About a half hour later, after Yong Soo had left Alfred to wonder and wait, the Korean crept out of his room, dressed in all black and donning his own Nerf gun. It was, admittedly, not as neat or cool as Alfred's — no revolving action or anything, but he had a giant stockpile of the foam bullets, which he had spent the past twenty minutes or so digging out from under all the junk in his room.

He entered the living room quietly. His plan was to jump Alfred and exact his revenge in a hail of foam bullets before the other even had a chance to react, but Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Great! He'd gone to all this work to get ready to get back at Alfred and now he wasn't even arou—

He quickly withdrew behind the wall. Alfred had just returned to the living room, carrying a plate with a sandwich. He'd changed out of all his spy gear and was now just wearing a T-shirt and some jeans. Perfect. He wasn't suspecting anything. Smirking to himself, Yong Soo leaned out from behind the wall and fired the first dart at Alfred's forehead just as he was about to take a bite from his sandwich. Alfred froze and looked up to see the Korean grinning at him from across the room, and suddenly he realized what the Korean had meant by making him pay.

"Aw, you suck!" he whined, abandoning his sandwhich and rushing across the room to grab his Nerf gun off a chair, all the while being pelted mercilessly by Korea's foam darts. Only when Yong Soo had to stop to reload did Alfred have a moment to duck behind the coach.

"I'll show you who the master is!" the American shouted, exposing himself for a moment to fire at Yong Soo, who had taken cover behind a chair. By now, Yong Soo had reloaded, and the two of them exchanged fire for about 30 seconds until Alfred ran out of foam bullets. But Yong Soo still had about ten darts stockpiled, and after a quick reload, he charged forward, firing what remained of his stockpile at the now fleeing American before jumping over the couch and tackling the other to the ground.

"I told you I'd make you pay!" Yong Soo snickered, grappling with Alfred, trying to wrestle him into submission. But they were an even match, and the contest went on until they were both worn out and collapsed in a heap on the ground.

"Oh, you sure showed me," Alfred panted, rolling his eyes. "You interrupted my dinner. Whatever shall I do?"

"You shall not disturb my video games again," Yong Soo quipped in reply, punching him lightly.

"Or you can put it in two-player mode and I'll still blow up your space ship," Alfred grinned.

"I doubt it."

"You wanna bet?"

And between them passed a silent understanding that it was going to be a very long night indeed.

"Fine," the Korean relented with a smirk. "Get the other controller. I'll make you pay all over again."


End file.
